Pencil You In
by CaringIsNotAnAdvantage
Summary: Greg and Mycroft enjoy some good old fashioned office sex. Based on the TFLN: "Our date last night was amazing and I would like to reward you with a blow job under your desk." "I can pencil you in at 3:30" PWP


_A/N: Only my second shipping fic, and my first time writing smut._

_Betaed by Gryphon31_

_Inspired by a TFLN which I used as Mycroft and Greg's texts_

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**Our date last night was amazing, and I would like to reward you with a blowjob under your desk. **

The text came around noon, when Mycroft was working his way through an irritating bought of paperwork involving a few pesky dictators. He and the Detective Inspector hadn't been seeing each other long, but it was going quite well, Mycroft thought. The previous night he had taken Gregory to dinner, and only the promise of an early meeting had kept him from agreeing when he'd been invited to stay the night for the first time.

He'd allowed himself a moment to laugh at his policeman's teasing, texted Anthea to thank her for recommending the Indian place Greg had loved so much, and fired off a quick text in reply.

**I can pencil you in at 3:30 -MH**

By mid-afternoon, a scandal in Germany had kept his attention long enough that he'd forgotten about their little exchange. He'd been quite startled when, at 3:20, Greg slipped in. He'd been pleased to see the man, whose soft eyes and bright smile were always a welcome surprise. He hadn't realized why the detective was there, however, until Greg's smile had turned suggestive and his eyes darkened.

"I know you said 3:30," Greg licked his lips. "But I was a bit eager and thought I'd see if you could fit me in a bit earlier."

For a moment, Mycroft gaped. It was rare for a person to surprise him, and he was still getting used to how easily Greg was able to slip past his defenses. He stuttered for a moment before replying. "Oh, I'd honestly thought you were joking."

"The first thing you should learn about me, is I never joke about blowjobs." Greg smirked as he sauntered around the large wooden desk. He leaned forward, placing a hand on either arm of the high-backed chair and bending to give the politician a soft kiss, letting his tongue flick briefly against Mycroft's lips before pulling back to meet those pale eyes, which were already beginning to dilate with arousal.

"That alright with you?" The grey-haired man asked, his voice still teasing but his eyes scanning the other's face gravely. Greg had never known a man to turn down a blowjob, but he also knew it had been a very long time since Mycroft had received one, and certainly never in his office. Mycroft had already put himself out of his comfort zone by entering into a relationship with Greg, and the detective had promised himself that he would never push Mycroft for something the man wasn't comfortable with.

Mycroft looked a bit dazed,as if he still hadn't recovered from the shock of actually being offered a blowjob under his desk, but at Greg's serious scrutiny, his face cleared and his expression softened. He touched the man's tanned cheek gently in gratitude before replying with a smile.

"More than alright. Quite pleasurable, even."

With a victorious grin, Greg gave Mycroft another quick kiss before sinking to his knees, grateful for the plush carpet. He ran his hands slowly up the trouser-clad legs before him, urging them apart so he could settle between them. He watched, pleased, as Mycroft settled into the chair, slouching slightly and nudging his hips towards the teasing caress of Greg's hands. The detective palmed the hardening cock through Mycroft's trousers, laughing as the man gripped the armrests of his chair tightly and let out a harsh sigh.

"Impatient already?" Greg teased, his fingers moving quickly to the fastenings that stood between him and his prize. Mycroft said nothing, his eyes riveted on the scene below him. He lifted his hips obligingly as both his pants and trousers were eased down, and sighed with relief as his length was freed and almost instantly gripped by the rough warmth of Greg's hand.

Greg stroked him slowly, relishing the velvet heat in his palm as it hardened completely. With a quick glance up at his partner's hooded eyes and flushing cheeks, Greg bent to his task. He nuzzled briefly at Mycroft's groin before mouthing up the shaft, pressing sucking kisses and working his tongue along a throbbing vein.

With the hand not massaging the soft skin of a pale thigh, Greg pushed underneath the hem of Mycroft's tailored shirt. He gently caressed the stomach he knew Mycroft was still self-conscious about, hoping he was able to convey all of his lust and affection in his loving touch.

His fingers skated around a faded scar that he knew to be from the politicians days in field work. Greg tried not to think of the night near the start of their relationship when Mycroft, eyes far away and hand gripping Greg's tightly, told of the terrors of those days, and how often he'd nearly lost his life. The detective decided this was not the time to dwell on such thoughts, and moved his hand further up the man's chest to tweak a nipple.

When Mycroft's hips again hitched upwards impatiently, Greg decided to take pity on the man above him. He gripped the base of Mycroft's dick firmly and pressed a kiss to the head. His tongue flicked twice against the slit before he took the cock completely into his mouth, humming in agreement with Mycroft's stuttered gasp.

As his head bobbed over the other man's prick, Greg pulled his hand out from under the rumpled white shirt to steady Mycroft's twitching hips. Reveling in the restrained groans coming from over his head, he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard on the cock in his mouth, his free hand working what he couldn't fit into his mouth.

Greg had just moved back to tongue the head when he felt Mycroft's hands slip into his hair, slender fingers clenching in the silver strands as a moan escaped his lips. Greg groaned in return at the tugging on his hair. At the sound, Mycroft's eyes snapped open and he snatched his hands back guiltily. Pulling back with an obscene "pop," Greg grinned and reached for Mycroft's retreating hands.

"S'fine." He assured guiding the hands back to his head. "You can pull if you like, I don't mind it. Just try not to push, yeah? I may have a bit more practice, but my gag reflex isn't the best. No matter what porn says, gagging just isn't sexy."

Mycroft nodded, panting heavily, and once again threaded his fingers into Greg's thick hair. The detective chuckled as his head was gently urged back toward the leaking cock before him. From Mycroft's heaving chest and trembling thighs, Greg guessed it wouldn't take much more to get the auburn-haired man off.

There was a relieved whimper from the tall chair as Greg took the other man's length back into his mouth. He worked the shaft quickly with his fist while his tongue teased the head, Mycroft writhing under his renewed attentions. Greg moved the hand not stroking the other's prick to gently cup Mycroft's balls. When he felt them tighten he sucked hard and hollowed his cheeks. Mycroft came with a sharp cry, his fingers clenching in Greg's hair.

Greg swallowed quickly and rested his head on a still-trembling thigh. He watched with awe as Mycroft came down, his head thrown back against his chair and his chest heaving beneath his deliciously rumpled shirt. Slowly, the auburn-haired man opened his eyes. His head tilted forward lazily, his sweat-dampened hair falling across his forehead as he met the gaze of the warm brown eyes below him with a soft smile.

"Good?" Greg laughed, pressing his lips to the warm skin beneath his cheek.

"Quite good, thank you." Mycroft breathed, hand trailing gently through the thick silver hair under his fingers. Once he'd caught his breath, he leaned down to where Greg was still kneeling, kissing him sweetly before offering a hand to pull him to his feet. Greg's knees cracked as he stood, earning a chuckling Mycroft a glare.

"Shut it, you." Greg smirked as the other man began working on his belt. His grin quickly faded into a groan as Mycroft palmed the bulge in his jeans and deftly unzipped them. Within seconds, Greg's cock was exposed and his pants and trousers had been shoved down to his thighs.

When Mycroft moved forward in his chair and leaned down as if to take Greg in his mouth, the detective stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. The other man looked up, startled, to find Greg grinning down at him.

"You said you haven't done that before." Greg explained. At the start of their relationship Mycroft had admitted his lack of relationship experience, explaining that while he enjoyed sex, he had never before desired any kind of personal connection. He had found his pleasure in brief and discreet encounters. While it pained Greg to know that Mycroft had never felt secure enough with someone to experience something as common as giving a blowjob, it also pleased him immensely to be the first to be granted such trust. Mycroft's surprise softened at the implication of Greg's concern, before he raised a challenging eyebrow.

"It's just that it's a bit messy the first time. Wouldn't want you to stain your fancy carpet, would we?" Greg teased.

With a quick eyeroll, Mycroft conceded, leaning back and instead nudging Greg until he rested against the dark wood of the desk behind him. A hand slid possessively over a tanned hip as the politician began stroking the length before him. Greg had been hard practically since he entered the room, and he was already aching for release. He whined unabashedly as Mycroft pumped his dick with a skilled flick of his wrist. In a matter of minutes, he was twitching in the firm grip and moaning his lover's name as he came hard.

By the time Greg recovered, Mycroft was dropping a tissue into the bin, grimacing slightly at his sticky hand. Both men stood and tucked themselves back into their trousers, and then Greg was straightening Mycroft's tie and chuckling at how unsalvageable both of their shirts were. With a final tug at the other man's collar, Greg smiled.

"So what did you think of your first taste of office sex, then?"

"I think," Mycroft smirked, tugging the shorter man closer to him for to nip quickly at his neck, "that I shall have to pencil you in at least once a week."

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